Chapter 38

The beeping sound of hospital machines filled the operating room. All around, Bellatrix could weakly make out different figures—doctors and nurses—moving all around, getting ready to start the operation, while she lay weakly on the operation table, waiting to be sliced open like a fish after having been drugged. When she tried to get up, her limbs barely cooperated. She could barely raise a finger and in the end, remained on the operation table, staring blankly at the ceiling above. But even when the bright light from above shone in her eyes and her impending fate drawing closer, only one person's face flashed in her mind; Cillian. How cruel fate truly was. Even at the very last moment, at her dying moment after she had given him everything and he tossed it away, it was still his face she remembered. She felt like a joke. An utter, ridiculous joke. How had her life come to this? How had she made choices that led her to this very moment? Tears rolled down her cheek and a weak sob escape